Switching Places

When Lin Chen stepped out of the rest area, the sunlight was a little harsher than before. He tucked the trophy under his arm and slipped the envelope containing the check into the inner pocket of his gi. Its corners pressed against his ribs, and he could feel its outline as he walked.

At the corner of the corridor, Goku was squatting on the ground, drinking water. The paper cup was already empty, crushed in his hand. When he saw Lin Chen approaching, he stood and brushed the dust off his knees. "When are you going to Kame House?"

Lin Chen shifted the trophy to his other hand. "I'm heading back to the martial arts school first."

Goku nodded. "Then you should see Krillin when you get there. He said he'd stay there for a while and come back out for the next tournament." After saying that, he squatted down again, crushed the empty cup even flatter, and tossed it into the nearby trash can.

By the time Lin Chen walked out of the venue through the corridor, more than half the people in the square had already left. The fried noodle vendor was packing up his stall. Wisps of smoke still rose from the sheet-metal stove, though the flames had gone out, leaving only the dull red glow of charcoal flickering at the bottom. As he crossed the square, he noticed the blue-haired girl sitting beneath the shade of a tree, the silvery-white device resting on her knees as she fiddled with the buttons along its side. She looked up and saw Lin Chen, but said nothing. She merely glanced at him a few extra times before lowering her head and returning to her device.

When he returned to the entrance of the martial arts school, the iron gate was half open. The latch was hanging on its hook, unlocked. The sound of running water came from the yard, steady and continuous, as though someone were watering flowers with a hose.

Uncle Chen was squatting beside a flower bed in the backyard, holding a length of hose and watering the roots of an old osmanthus tree. When he saw Lin Chen enter, he aimed the stream at the ground for a moment before turning off the tap.

"You won?"

"I won."

Uncle Chen stood and patted the dirt from his knees. "Let me see the trophy."

Lin Chen handed it over. Uncle Chen took it and examined it for a while—the trophy gleamed beneath the afternoon sun, its plating still unworn and reflecting a bright sheen. He turned it over to inspect the engraving on the base, then handed it back to Lin Chen. "Put it inside first. The table's been cleared."

Lin Chen placed the trophy on the Eight Immortals table in the main hall. Its metal base struck the tabletop with a crisp sound. Sunlight slanted in through the half-open window, illuminating the upper half of the trophy's plating and reflecting a bright beam that cast a wavering spot of light onto the ceiling.

Uncle Chen sat down on the threshold, pulled a tobacco pipe from behind his waist, and filled the bowl. The flame leaped between his fingers as he struck a match. "I've heard of that Master Roshi. A kid surnamed Sun went looking for him before. Later, that kid placed several times in the World Martial Arts Tournament. Since he personally invited you, it means he truly thinks highly of you." He took a puff, and the smoke ring rose through the air before slowly dispersing.

Lin Chen stood in the doorway. "I haven't decided how long I'll be gone."

Uncle Chen tapped the ash from his pipe against the threshold. "Stay as long as you want. You've trained for ten years. It's time you went out and saw how other places train. I won't close the martial arts school. You can keep living here when you come back."

That afternoon, Lin Chen packed a few changes of clothes, a spare gi, and the unopened envelope into an old cloth bag. Standing in the yard, he gave the wooden training post one last look. The hemp rope wrapped around it had been worn smooth, its fibers carrying the oily sheen of long years of rubbing and glinting faintly in the sunlight. He reached out and touched the rope. It felt smooth and warm. Then he turned and walked out through the courtyard gate.

Kame House stood at the southern end of the coastline, an old two-story building with white-painted outer walls. Several patches had peeled away, exposing the gray plaster beneath. A stretch of beach lay before it, meeting the sea at its far end. The afternoon wind blew in from the water, carrying the scent of salt. A short bald boy was doing handstand push-ups on the beach. When he saw Lin Chen approach, he paused for a moment, but did not get up immediately. He finished the set before flipping down onto his feet. Krillin patted the sand from his hands. "You're here. Goku said you'd arrive later."

Lin Chen stopped at the edge of the beach. "I just got here."

Krillin looked him over, then pointed at the building. "Master's waiting for you inside. The room on the left is empty. The bed's already made."

He turned and resumed training without saying anything more. As Lin Chen stepped onto the corridor in front of the building, the wooden boards creaked softly beneath his feet. He pushed open the door to the empty room—the room was small, with an iron-framed bed and a wooden desk. There was a small window beside the bed, through which he could see a stretch of ocean. The blanket had been folded neatly, its edges aligned in a straight line, as though someone had just tidied it. An old-fashioned desk lamp sat on the bedside table, with a scorched yellow patch along the edge of its shade.

He set the cloth bag at the foot of the bed and sat down against the wall. The sea breeze blew through the window, carrying salt and a faint mist. It stirred the lamp's power cord, making it sway slightly against the edge of the desk. In the distance, a white seabird skimmed low over the water, its wings nearly brushing the waves. As it swept across the surface, the feathers at its wingtips traced a fleeting white line across the water. Then it rose and flew farther away.